HOW COULD YOU NOT LEEEEAAAVE WITH HIM?!?!

HOW COULD YOU NOT LEEEEAAAVE WITH HIM?!?!

DUde... this fic has me by the throat,

My nerves on edge,

My skin is tingling,

My breathing has HALTED.

I'm in full body shut down,

My organs-a-failing,

My fanny-A-FLUTTERING,

Brain-A-SLUTTERING.

All I wanna do is follow that man back to his apartment.

That's how I survive this unexplainable fever...

What Are Friends For? - Chapter 16

Word Count: 3.9k

Masterlist

I woke up to the smell of coffee.

For a second, I didn’t move—just blinked sleepily at the soft morning light filtering through the curtains, the quiet sounds of movement in the kitchen. The sheets were warm, twisted around my legs, my body still heavy with sleep.

And yeah. I felt it.

Not just the dull ache between my thighs, not just the lazy satisfaction curling low in my stomach. But the warmth lingering in my skin, the knowing that I wasn’t waking up alone.

Austin was already up.

I stretched slowly, pressing my face into the pillow, exhaling through my nose. I should get up. I should find my clothes, make myself look somewhat functional, maybe even pretend this wasn’t a big deal—because it wasn’t, right?

Except.

Last night.

Last night had been slow. Last night had been something else.

And I was lying to myself if I said I didn’t feel it.

The smell of coffee got stronger. A cupboard door clicked shut.

I sighed, finally pushing myself up, running a hand through my hair. My clothes were somewhere on the floor, but instead of searching, I reached for the first thing I saw—his t-shirt.

It hung loose over my frame, soft and warm, smelling faintly of him.

Yeah. Not a big deal at all.

I padded into the kitchen, the wooden floor cool under my feet.

Austin was standing at the counter, back to me, shirtless, hair a complete mess.

Not fair.

He turned when he heard me, eyes flickering over me once before his lips curled. “Mornin’.”

I made a vague noise in response, covering a yawn with my sleeve as I dropped onto one of the stools at the counter.

Austin huffed a quiet laugh, sliding a fresh mug toward me. “Tired?”

I reached for the coffee blindly. “Wonder why.”

His smirk deepened. “Need me to remind you?”

I kicked him lightly in the shin.

He laughed, leaning back against the counter, arms crossing over his chest. “You sleep okay?”

I nodded, sipping my coffee. “Yeah.”

And I had.

Which was a problem.

Because I shouldn’t feel this comfortable, this settled in his space. Shouldn’t already know exactly where the coffee mugs were kept, shouldn’t be able to pick up on the barely-there shift in his voice when he asked if I’d slept well.

Shouldn’t be thinking about how much I liked waking up here.

Austin drummed his fingers against the counter, watching me.

“What?” I asked, narrowing my eyes.

He shook his head, smirking. “Nothin’.”

I huffed. “You’re literally staring.”

“Maybe.” He took a slow sip of his coffee, eyes still fixed on me. “Just looks good on you, that’s all.”

I frowned. “What does?”

Austin tilted his head, gaze flicking pointedly to the hem of his t-shirt, hanging loose around my thighs.

Heat bloomed in my stomach.

“Shut up,” I muttered, tugging the fabric lower.

Austin laughed, shaking his head, so damn pleased with himself. But before I could roll my eyes and turn away, he leaned in, catching me off guard. His hand curled around my waist, warm and easy, and then—

He kissed me.

Soft at first, like he was testing the waters, but when I didn’t pull away—when I tilted into it, just slightly—he deepened it, fingers flexing against my side. My breath caught, coffee forgotten, everything narrowing down to the feel of his lips on mine.

It was just a second. Maybe two. But when he pulled back, that damn smirk was still there, his thumb grazing the hem of the shirt.

“Looks real good on you,” he murmured, before stepping back like nothing had happened.

I rolled my eyes, gripping my mug like it might steady me instead.

For a while, we just existed in the same space.

Austin leaned against the counter, absently scrolling through his phone. I curled up on the stool, one knee tucked to my chest, slowly waking up.

It should have felt awkward.

But it didn’t.

It felt… easy.

Outside, the streets were still damp from last night’s rain, the fresh spring air slipping through a crack in the window. The flat smelled like coffee and something warm, something familiar.

I let my fingers curl loosely around the mug, staring at the steam curling from the surface.

Austin nudged my ankle with his foot.

I blinked up at him.

“Food?” he asked.

I sighed dramatically. “I guess.”

Austin smirked, grabbing eggs from the fridge. “Got a busy day?”

I shook my head. “Not really. Just writing. Walking Golo later.”

He nodded, cracking an egg into the pan. “You’re not leaving yet, though?”

I glanced at him, wrapping my hands around my mug.

Not yet.

I shook my head. “Not yet.”

Austin’s mouth twitched like that was the answer he wanted.

And me?

I tried not to think about it too much.

We ate at the counter, the conversation light and easy between bites of eggs and toast.

Austin cleared his plate first, stretching as he pushed up from the stool. “Gotta get ready,” he said, running a hand through his hair.

I hummed in response, gathering up our plates. “I’ll clean up.”

Austin shot me a look. “You don’t have to.”

I shrugged, already stacking the dishes in the sink. “I know.”

Something flickered in his expression—something I couldn’t quite place—but he just nodded, disappearing down the hall to get dressed.

The flat was quiet again.

I rinsed off the plates, listening to the faint sounds of Austin moving around, the rustle of fabric, the creak of a drawer opening.

By the time I’d finished, the knock at the door came.

Austin’s footsteps sounded behind me as he pulled his shirt over his head, tugging it into place. “It’s too early for this.”

I smirked, sipping from my mug. “You don’t even know who it is.”

Austin gave me a look.

I huffed a quiet laugh. “Right. Fair point.”

We both knew exactly who it was.

And—yeah. Callum. Standing on the doorstep with his hands in his pockets and a look so smug I almost wanted to shut the door on him myself.

“Morning, lovebirds.”

Austin exhaled through his nose, unimpressed.

I just raised an eyebrow. “You always this annoying before coffee, or is it just for us?”

Callum grinned, stepping inside. “Oh, I’m wide awake, Ange. Fully alert. And what a lovely surprise this is.” His gaze flicked between us, landing on the oversized t-shirt I was wearing—Austin’s t-shirt. His smirk deepened. “You know, I was only half-joking about you moving in here for the week, but this is… well, this is just adorable.”

Austin groaned. “Jesus.”

I took another sip of my coffee, calm, collected, not giving him the reaction he wanted.

Callum, unfortunately, was undeterred.

“Sleep well?” he asked, all mock innocence.

Austin didn’t dignify that with a response.

I set my mug down and tilted my head like I was actually considering it. “Yeah, actually.” I shot Callum a sweet smile. “Austin makes a great pillow.”

Austin choked on his coffee.

Callum burst out laughing.

Austin wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, exhaling like he was already over this conversation. “You done?”

Callum grinned. “Not even close.” He stepped further into the flat, eyes flicking between me perched at the counter in Austin’s t-shirt and Austin, who looked like he was already regretting opening the door.

I rested my elbow on the counter, chin propped on my palm. “Go on, then. Get it out of your system.”

Callum tapped his chin, pretending to think. “Let’s see. I could talk about how disgustingly domestic this looks—”

Austin groaned. “Jesus.”

“—or how you, mate, are so far gone it’s almost painful.”

Austin rubbed a hand over his face. “I actually hate you.”

Callum ignored him completely, turning his attention back to me with a smirk. “And you, Ange, settling in nicely, yeah?”

I sipped my coffee, unfazed. “Just making myself comfortable.”

Austin muttered something under his breath, shaking his head, but there was no real bite to it.

Callum clapped his hands together like he’d seen all he needed. “Right, lover boy, you ready to go?”

Austin shot him a flat look. “I was, until you showed up.”

Callum grinned, completely unbothered. “And yet, here I am.”

Austin exhaled sharply, giving up. Instead, he looked at me. “You good?”

I nodded, stretching as I stood. “Yeah. Think I’ll head back to Callum’s in a bit, get some writing done before I walk Golo.”

Callum slung an arm around Austin’s shoulders. “Golo’s living his best life right now. That dog’s already in love with you Ange.”

I smirked. “He’s got good taste.”

Austin huffed out a quiet laugh, shaking his head as he grabbed his bag. He hesitated just for a second before looking at me again. “I’ll see you later?”

It wasn’t really a question.

But I still answered, just to let him hear it.

“Yeah,” I said, voice softer. “See you later.”

Austin held my gaze for a beat longer, something unspoken lingering between us. Then, as he turned, his fingers brushed against mine—light, fleeting, almost like he hadn’t meant to.

Then Callum clapped him on the back. “Come on, Romeo. Let’s get to work before you start reciting poetry.”

Austin rolled his eyes but didn’t argue, following him to the door.

Callum turned back once more with a smug grin. “Try not to miss him too much, Ange.”

I didn’t bother responding, just tossed a balled-up napkin at the door as it clicked shut behind them.

And then—

Silence.

I exhaled, running a hand through my hair, staring at the now-empty space where Austin had been standing.

For the first time since waking up, the flat felt different.

Not bad.

Just… quiet.

Shaking the thought away, I rinsed out my mug and grabbed my bag. I had things to do, notes to go through. A scene that wasn’t working. Something to keep my hands busy, keep my thoughts from drifting.

Get ready, write, walk Golo, pretend I wasn’t counting down the hours until I saw Austin again.

One step at a time.

I was curled up on Callum’s sofa, Golo sprawled half on top of me, when I heard them.

The front door opened with a low creak, followed by the rustle of jackets, the scrape of boots against the floor, and the low murmur of conversation—Callum’s voice a little louder, Austin’s quieter, more relaxed.

Golo’s ears perked up first, then his tail thumped excitedly against my leg as he wriggled off me, trotting toward the doorway.

I stretched my arms above my head, glancing over just as Callum came into view, ruffling Golo’s ears as he kicked the door shut behind him. He looked exhausted but happy, his hair still slightly damp from whatever chaos the day had thrown at them.

Austin followed a second later, hoodie slung over one shoulder, his t-shirt slightly wrinkled, like he’d yanked it on in a hurry. His hair was damp too, the ends curling just slightly. He looked tired, but when his gaze landed on me, something eased in his expression.

“Hey,” he murmured.

Warmth curled low in my stomach. “Hey.”

Callum groaned dramatically as he collapsed onto the armchair. “Absolute slog today. You don’t even wanna know what they made us do.”

I smirked. “Oh, you mean your job? The job you love? The job you get paid to do?”

Callum scowled. “Betrayed in my own home.”

Austin huffed a quiet laugh, shaking his head as he dropped onto the sofa beside me, his arm brushing lightly against mine. “She’s got a point.”

Callum muttered something under his breath, stretching his legs out with an exaggerated sigh. “Anyway. I’m too tired to cook. Food?”

I raised an eyebrow. “You do realise I don’t live here, right?”

Callum just gave me a look, like that was the stupidest thing I’d ever said.

Austin smirked, already pulling out his phone. “I’ll order.”

“Bless you,” Callum said, eyes already half-closed.

Austin barely acknowledged him, glancing at me instead. “What do you feel like?”

I shrugged. “I’m easy.”

Callum snorted. “That’s what he said.”

Austin sighed, rubbing his eyes. “I actually hate you.”

I shook my head, biting back a smile as Austin scrolled through his phone. He still looked tired, but there was something softer about it now—like whatever weight he’d been carrying had lifted slightly just by being here.

Callum, predictably, lasted about five minutes before falling asleep in the armchair. His head lolled to the side, one foot hanging off the edge, Golo curled up on the floor next to him.

Austin glanced at me, one eyebrow raised. “That was fast.”

I smirked, keeping my voice low. “Man’s got no stamina.”

Austin bit down a laugh, shaking his head as he leaned back against the sofa. His fingers tapped absently against his knee, his other hand resting against the cushion between us.

Silence settled.

Not awkward. Just… there.

I stole a glance at him. His jaw was softer like this, the tension from earlier gone, his lashes casting faint shadows against his cheekbones.

“Long day?” I asked quietly.

Austin exhaled, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah. Good, though.”

I nodded, watching him. “Callum wasn’t lying about them working you into the ground?”

Austin huffed a quiet laugh. “Nope. Had us in the cockpit setups most of the day. Feels like I’ve spent hours staring at dials.”

I grinned. “You’re telling me all those flying lessons haven’t made you a pro?”

Austin smirked, tilting his head slightly. “Oh, I’m a pro. Just don’t ask me to actually land the damn thing.”

I laughed softly, pulling my legs up beneath me. “Noted.”

The air between us shifted slightly.

I was suddenly very aware of how close we were. Of the way his hand rested so easily against the sofa, fingers inches from my knee. Of the way his gaze flickered, almost imperceptibly, toward my mouth before he looked away again.

I swallowed. “When’s the food getting here?”

Austin glanced at his phone. “Few minutes.”

I nodded, gripping the blanket draped over the back of the sofa, trying to ignore the warmth pooling in my stomach.

Austin stretched, his arm brushing against mine as he relaxed back against the cushions. Then, after a moment, he tilted his head slightly, studying me.

“You get much writing done?”

I exhaled, rolling my shoulders. “Yeah. Got through some edits. Still not happy with one scene, though.”

Austin hummed, his fingers tapping lightly against the sofa. “The one you mentioned the other day?”

“Yeah. Feels like it’s missing something, but I can’t put my finger on it.”

His gaze lingered on me for a second before he nodded. “You’ll figure it out.”

The certainty in his voice made my stomach dip.

“Hope so.” I huffed out a breath. “If not, I’ll just throw my laptop out the window.”

Austin smirked. “Bit dramatic.”

“Not really.” I leaned my head back against the sofa, closing my eyes. “You’ve never seen me in a writing crisis.”

“Not yet,” he murmured.

My eyes flicked open. His expression was unreadable, but something about the way he was looking at me sent a slow warmth curling through my chest.

Then his phone buzzed.

Austin glanced at it, smirking slightly. “Food’s here.”

I exhaled, pushing up from the sofa. “Saved by the bell.”

Austin chuckled, standing too. “For now.”

Austin grabbed his hoodie from the back of the chair as he headed for the door, ruffling Golo’s ears on the way. The dog thumped his tail happily but didn’t move from his spot on the floor. Callum, still slumped in the armchair, made an incoherent noise but didn’t stir.

I stretched, rolling my shoulders as Austin disappeared into the hallway. The flat was quiet, save for the faint sounds of the city outside, the occasional hum of a passing car.

Something about it felt… settled.

That was dangerous.

I glanced over at Callum, still out cold, one foot hanging off the side of the chair. If I was being smart, I could just slip off to my room now—pretend like tonight wasn’t about to feel like another step deeper into whatever this thing with Austin was becoming.

But then the door swung open, and there he was again, hoodie tugged on, a plastic bag in one hand. He shot me a look as he kicked the door shut behind him.

“Don’t worry, got enough to keep Callum happy when he inevitably wakes up demanding food.”

I smirked. “Thoughtful.”

Austin set the bag down on the coffee table, glancing toward the armchair. “You think he’d notice if we just ate his share?”

I bit my lip, considering it. “Tempting.”

Austin huffed a quiet laugh, shaking his head as he unpacked the food. I grabbed a couple of plates from the kitchen, and by the time I sat back down, he was already stretching out on the sofa again, one arm draped over the back, legs spread in that lazy way that made my stomach dip.

He handed me a container, his fingers brushing against mine as I took it.

“So,” he said, leaning back. “You gonna tell me what’s wrong with your scene, or am I supposed to guess?”

I paused, fork hovering over my food. “You actually want to hear about it?”

Austin smirked. “I’m asking, aren’t I?”

I sighed, shifting against the cushions. “It’s not wrong, exactly. It’s just not right yet.”

Austin smirked. “Yeah, that clears it up.”

I shot him a look. “I’m serious. Something about the pacing feels off. I want the moment to land, but it still feels… I don’t know. Too neat.”

Austin nodded slowly, watching me. “Which part?”

I hesitated, tapping my fingers against the side of my container. “The scene where he comes home.”

Austin’s brows pulled together slightly, like he was actually thinking it through. “After the war?”

I nodded. “Yeah. He’s been gone for years, his family’s changed, he’s changed, and the whole street comes out to see him because they all know—”

“They all know what he went through,” Austin finished quietly.

I swallowed. “Yeah.”

He was quiet for a second, like he was playing it out in his head. Then, finally—“What doesn’t feel right about it?”

I exhaled. “It feels too big. Too grand. It needs to matter, but it also has to feel personal, y’know? Like, it’s not about a crowd of people cheering. It’s about his mum standing on the doorstep. It’s about his family hesitating for a second before running to him because they can’t believe he’s actually there. I want it to feel real.”

Austin hummed, thoughtful. “And it doesn’t yet?”

I shook my head. “Not quite.”

His fingers tapped against his knee, absent but thoughtful. Then—“What was the first thing your great-uncle did when he came home?”

I blinked.

Austin just looked at me, waiting.

My stomach flipped slightly.

Because he’d remembered.

I let out a slow breath, my voice quieter now. “He whistled.”

Austin tilted his head. “Whistled.”

“Yeah.” I glanced down at my hands. “Every day, coming home from work, my nan said he’d whistle on his way up the street. Everyone knew it was him. And after the war, when he finally got back, they were all waiting, but they didn’t see him at first. Then they heard it—his whistle.”

Austin didn’t say anything.

But I saw it—the way his throat worked slightly, the way his fingers flexed against his knee.

And then, after a beat, he spoke.

“Then that’s your scene.”

I blinked.

Austin leaned in slightly. “Not the crowd, not the big reunion—that.” He tapped his fingers against the sofa. “The sound of him coming home. The thing they all recognised before they even saw him.”

My chest tightened.

Because he was right.

I swallowed. “Yeah.”

Austin smirked, but it was softer this time. “Told you you’d figure it out.”

We finished eating in comfortable silence, the weight of the earlier conversation lingering between us. Callum, predictably, stayed asleep, snoring softly from the armchair, Golo curled up next to him.

Austin stretched, exhaling as he leaned his head back against the couch. “Might crash soon.”

I hummed in agreement, but didn’t move.

Austin glanced at me, amusement flickering in his eyes. “What, too full to move?”

I smirked. “Maybe.”

He shook his head, then—without thinking—he reached out, fingertips skimming lightly over my wrist.

Not a big move.

Not a calculated one.

Just… there.

Like he was testing something.

I felt my breath catch, just slightly.

I could pull away.

Could say something sarcastic, roll my eyes, shake it off.

But I didn’t.

Instead, I turned my hand over, just enough to let his fingers graze my palm.

Austin’s jaw shifted, his gaze flickering down to where our hands hovered between us.

He didn’t push it further.

Didn’t lace our fingers together, didn’t make some teasing comment.

He just let it be.

A small thing.

A quiet, unspoken choice.

But maybe those were the ones that mattered the most.

Austin exhaled, the corner of his mouth twitching slightly.

“Guess I’ll see you in the morning, then.”

I nodded, pulse steady but a little too loud in my ears. “Yeah.”

But neither of us moved.

Austin’s fingers flexed slightly, his hand shifting like he was debating something. Then, instead of pulling away, his touch skimmed lower, his palm brushing lightly against mine before his fingers curled, just barely, around the side of my hand.

“I’ll walk you out,” I murmured.

His lips twitched like he wanted to make some smart remark, but he didn’t. He just gave my hand a small squeeze before letting go, following me down the hall.

At the door, he turned, his gaze flickering over me, something unreadable settling in his expression.

“Get some sleep,” he murmured.

I smirked, tilting my head. “You telling me or you?”

Austin huffed out a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “Both.”

A breath, a shift of weight, something unspoken hanging between us.

Then—his hand found my waist, fingertips pressing lightly, deliberate, while his other hand skimmed up, tucking a stray curl behind my ear. My breath caught, my heart thudding against my ribs as his fingers lingered, his touch warm, steady.

This wasn’t a question.

He leaned in, closing the space between us, and kissed me.

Slow, certain, like he already knew exactly how I’d respond. Like he wasn’t in a hurry to let go.

I sighed into it, my fingers curling into the fabric of his hoodie, his body pressing just slightly into mine, like he wanted to pull me closer but knew he had to leave.

It wasn’t a goodbye.

Just a pause.

Austin pulled back slightly, his forehead barely an inch from mine, his thumb brushing over my hip. His voice was quieter now.

“See you in the morning.”

I exhaled, barely resisting the smile pulling at my lips. “See you in the morning.”

His lips twitched, like he really wanted to kiss me again but was forcing himself not to. Instead, he gave my waist a small squeeze, then finally stepped back, pulling open the door.

I watched as he disappeared down the path, his hands in his pockets, his head tilting slightly like he felt me watching.

He didn’t look back.

Didn’t need to.

I shut the door, exhaling slowly.

And yeah.

Sleep wasn’t happening any time soon.

Taglist:

@slowsweetlove @thefallofthedamned @saturnsdaughtr @bellesdreamyprofile @myradiaz @butlerrizz @chocolatetree222 @richardslady121